Private Peaceful

by Michael Morpurgo
We were lulled by the blue skies perhaps, or by sheer boredom. Fritz seemed to have gone to
sleep on us and as far as we were concerned that suited us fine. We thought we could go to
sleep too. The awakening came suddenly. "as! as!"
The cry goes up and is echoed all along the trench. For a moment we are frozen with panic. We
have trained for this time and again, but nonetheless we fumble clumsily, feverishly with our gas
masks.
"Fi" bayonets!" #anley$s yelling while we$re still trying frantically to pull on our gas masks. We
grab our rifles and fi" bayonets. We$re on the firestep looking out into no%man$s%land, and we see
it rolling towards us, this dreaded killer cloud we have heard so much about but have never seen
for ourselves until now. &ts deadly tendrils are searching ahead, feeling their way forward in long
yellow wisps, scenting me, searching for me. Then finding me out, the gas turns and drifts
straight for me. &$m shouting inside my gas mask. "'hrist! 'hrist!" (till the gas comes on, through
our wire, swallowing everything in its path.
& hear again in my head the instructor$s voice, see him shouting at me through his mask when we
went out on our last e"ercise. ")ou$re panicking in there, *eaceful. + gas mask is like od, son.
&t$ll work bloody miracles for you, but you$ve got to believe in it." ,ut & don$t believe in it! & don$t
believe in miracles.
The gas is only feet away now. &n a moment it will be on me, around me, in me. & crouch down,
hiding my face between my knees, hands over my helmet, praying it will float over my head, over
the top of the trench, seek out someone else. ,ut it does not. &t$s all around me. & tell myself & will
not breathe, & must not breathe. Through a yellow mist & see the trench filling up with it. &t drifts
into the dugouts, snaking into every nook and cranny, looking for me. & see men running,
staggering, falling. & see *ete shouting out for me. Then he$s grabbing me and we run. #alf%
blinded by my mask & trip and fall, crashing my head against the trench wall, knocking myself
half%senseless. My gas mask has come off. & pull it down, but & have breathed in and know
already it$s too late. My eyes are stinging. My lungs are burning. & am coughing, retching,
choking. & don$t care where &$m running so long as it is away from the gas. +t last &$m in the
reserve trench and it is clear of gas. &$m out of it. & wrench off my mask, gasping for good air.
Then & am on my hands and knees, vomiting violently. When at last the worst is over & look up
through blurred and weeping eyes. + #un in a gas mask is standing over me, his rifle aimed at
my head.
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